


Art of Conflict

by KeybladeBanditJing



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeybladeBanditJing/pseuds/KeybladeBanditJing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why are we here, Kid?” Maka groaned. “And why do we have to watch the matches? I don't think I can stand to see another one. Not the way the last one ended...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This... just randomly showed up. The main idea and a rough plot popped into my head while I was listening to the TRON Legacy soundtrack. I'm still trying to piece most of it together, so don't expect much in the way of updates, as this story is pretty much still in its early planning stages. I'm more or less confident in this chapter though, so I figured I'd put it up.

* * *

The moment Maka sees the crowd around the arena she knows she's not going to enjoy this particular assignment. Her partner, Death the Kid, held a scowl proving his disdain for the place as well.

The very idea disgusts her. Weapons pitted against each other in some twisted imitation of the Roman gladiatorial rings. The fact that it had once been an underground and illegal sport was bad enough, but many years ago it was finally declared legal, given a league, became heavily commercialized, and sanctioned many different national leagues and tournaments. Each of which were televised worldwide. There were a few human rights groups who had protested them at first, but they had given up years ago when it was clear that no one would listen to them.

Maka scowled. As usual, money had won over reason.

She sits in the audience of a particularly gruesome match, watching like one watches a train wreck and the resulting carnage. Disgusted and horrified, but unable to look away. Both weapons are of the bladed variety, and are clearly injured, bleeding heavily, but doggedly fighting on. Kid had insisted they watched the fights in the bladed division.

She was still somewhat in the dark about this mission, which was also unusual. Kid was very professional and not one to have his investigative partners uninformed. His father, the grim reaper himself, had sent for her for the mission, as Kid had requested her specifically. When she had arrived, Shinigami had informed her that they were leaving immediately and Kid would give her the details.

Only he hadn't, and that worried her. Kid hadn't given much of any details except that they were investigating a weapons arena, and while he hadn't said anything, Maka could see that he was also taking this mission rather personally. That scared her more than anything. Kid did not involve himself too deeply in his missions. It was dangerous, and could lead to mistakes. Adding to her concern was the fact that Kid had left his weapons, two sisters who had the forms of twin pistols, behind for their own safety. She herself was unarmed as well, but that wasn't a concern, as she didn't have a weapon partner to begin with. Not that no one had requested her, she just preferred the work with Kid to the soul gathering most weapons and meisters were committed to.

She chanced a sideways glance at the young shinigami beside her. He was watching the arena matches with an intensity she easily attributed to his immense anger at the entire situation. Outside of Death City, where she and Kid were stationed, weapons were barely considered human, thanks to this blood sport, and while she was no more pleased about it than he was, Kid had been around for many more years than she, despite his apparent age being the same as hers, and could remember a time when things were different. He watched each match closely with the same intensity. Maka could feel the anger radiating from his soul, but there was something else. He was looking for something.

Or some _one_.

The announcer gave running blow-by-blow commentary on each fight, but she had long since tuned him out, so she wasn't paying attention when he announced the two new weapons for the match, which had apparently ended when Maka was studying Kid. She didn't know who won, and she didn't care to. She paled and would have dropped to her knees if she wasn't already sitting down when she saw one of them being hauled off the battlefield on a stretcher covered completely by a blood spattered blanket. That was apparently the loser... Blinking back tears for the weapon, she looked up at the screen hovering over the arena, pushing down a wave of nausea when she saw “FATALITY” flashing over one of the portraits of the two combatants.

The crowd erupted into cheers, and Maka had to take a deep breath and center herself to keep from lashing out at everyone within her reach.

 _Disgusting, ignorant, bloodthirsty, inhuman_... “This is horrible,” she can't stop the horrified rasp. Kid glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “How could this have even...”

“It was over twenty years ago when the legislation went through,” Kid replied almost robotically. “There was much opposition in the beginning, but as you can see, it won out in the end.” He sighed. “It slowly grew in popularity to what it is now, and sadly I don't see an end to it anytime soon. Father doesn't like it any more than you or I, but there is only so much he can do. Which is why we're here.”

“Why are we here, Kid?” Maka groaned. “And why do we have to watch the matches? I don't think I can stand to see another one. Not the way the last one ended...” her voice broke and she stopped to clear her throat.

Kid grimaced at the pain in her voice, but looked back to the now empty arena as it changed terrain for the next match, going from rocky, uneven terrain to something resembling a mock city, with metal pylons set up in place of buildings. “Not all weapons win by killing. One of which Father has taken interest in. And one which I once knew personally. I do not know his alias, but I do know his weapon type, which is why we're watching the fights in this division.”

Maka blinked. That would apparently explain his unusually personal nature to this mission. “Alias?”

Kid glanced at her before looking back to the screen above the arena as it finished the terrain change, waiting for the two new combatants to be announced. “Weapons are not referred to in arenas with their real names. They are often given one, or they choose one of their own liking. They are mostly meant to intimidate, but are also officially used as a means of identification.”

“Who is he?” Maka asked, half out of curiosity and half out of needing to know for the mission.

Kid scowled down at the arena. “I once could have told you, but now, given his record, I'm not so sure.”

Maka would have asked more, but at that point the announcer spoke up again, and the crowd erupted once more in response. Kid wouldn't have been able to hear her inquiry anyway, despite sitting right next to her. Maka tuned out the announcer, opting instead to look down at the arena, where two holes were dilating open in the floor on opposite ends, raising the combatants through small elevated platforms. She didn't bother watching anymore, and opted instead to look around at the crowd in disgust, but was promptly jolted out of her thoughts when Kid shot out of his seat and stared intently at the combatant nearest their side of the arena. Maka blinked, and looked down at him. He was difficult to see against the gunmetal gray of all the obstacles in the arena, as his outfit was nearly the same color, which he was taking full advantage of by blending in with his surroundings as he searched for his opponent through the many pillars between them. She never would have found him at all if not for the shock white of his hair.

She glanced over at Kid to make sure he was the one the shinigami was staring at. When she followed his line of vision to the same weapon she'd just found, she glanced up at the screen out of curiosity to find at least one name of the weapon they had come for. She matched up the white hair to one of the portraits on the screen of a boy who couldn't be more than a year older than her at the most, with piercing blood red eyes glaring at the camera from under wild white hair, unusually pointed teeth slightly bared in a snarl. She looked down at the reading under the portrait and grimaced, slightly regretting even wanting to know what to call him.

 _Soul Eater_.

She looked back down to the match, deciding since this 'Soul Eater' was the weapon they had come for, she might as well see his abilities. The two combatants hadn't found each other yet. Soul Eater was currently stalking through the pillars very slowly and carefully, clearly alert of his surroundings. She caught a glimpse of his opponent darting between a couple obstacles. He did too, and a long curved blade drew slowly from the crook of his right arm. He held it in front of him defensively at a slight angle, and she admired the foresight. The location of the blade, deep in the bend of his elbow, would offer much more stability and strength than if he'd drawn it from the top of his forearm, as most blade weapons seemed to prefer doing.

She had seen that his opponent was clearly armored, and wondered why he wasn't. She squinted and realized that at a closer look, he was actually wearing light leather armor, and wondered at the choice. Leather wasn't the best armor to hold up to a sharp blade. He continued to prowl through the arena, when he suddenly stopped. In one swift movement almost too fast for Maka to see, he drew a blade from his left wrist, whirled, cleanly sliced the pillar behind him, withdrew both blades, and kicked the sliced pillar over.

His opponent barely dodged the falling pylon, but wasn't given a chance to do much else as Soul Eater lunged forward faster than Maka could follow, blades drawn on both wrists. His opponent barely blocked with his own blade, which appeared to be a large sword, in time, but Soul Eater didn't give him a chance to recover, withdrawing both blades to slide around to his opponent's side and drawing another just long enough to swipe through a chink in his opponent's armor. His opponent faltered from the attack, and Maka saw some blood drop to the floor, but he swung wide for Soul Eater with the blade protruding from his wrist that he had used to block the initial lunge. Soul Eater ducked the blade easily and darted behind him, drawing a blade from the back of his right knee and kicking out with it at the backs of his opponent's knees, another opening in his armor from the joints.

There was much more blood this time, and the sword weapon dropped to one knee. Even from the distance, Maka could tell Soul Eater had sliced at least one of his opponent's tendons. Crippled as such, there wasn't much he could do to fight back, but when Soul Eater cautiously approached, blade drawn from the inside of his elbow again to defend with should he need to, the sword weapon swung wildly, still trying to fight. The blade only met with Soul Eater's, and he quickly raised his arm, taking his opponent's blade, and arm, with it, before slicing through the underarm joint of the armor with a quick kick and a blade on his ankle. His opponent's arm fell uselessly to the ground, blade withdrawn. Maka could only stare. Every move Soul Eater made was almost too fast for her to follow. The light armor suddenly made sense. He kicked off his opponent's helmet and crossed his arms in front of the other weapon's head, blades protruding from both elbows to hold his neck in a scissor grip.

Neither of them moved, and Maka wondered what was going to happen, when a horn blared and the screen flashed under Soul Eater's portrait, and his opponent's portrait dimmed slightly. Maka assumed that declared Soul Eater the winner, and saw that this seemed to be the case, as Soul Eater withdrew both arms, blades already retracted, and offered a hand to his opponent. Despite the situation, Maka found herself somewhat touched by the action.

“ _Not all weapons win by killing_.”

The other weapon didn't seem to share her sentiment, and knocked his hand away with his good arm before getting up and hobbling off the battlefield. Soul Eater winced and shook his hand out before scowling, picking up the other weapon's helmet, and jogging after him off the field, which was already in the process of changing terrain for the next match.

Kid immediately got up from his seat and started moving toward the aisle. Maka yelped and quickly rose to stagger after him. “Kid, wait!” The shinigami paused only long enough for her to catch up with him in the aisle before continuing on his way with long driven strides. She had to jog to keep up with him. “Where are we going?”

He didn't even turn to her in his response. “We're going to find him.”

Maka remembered something she'd read on the schedule when they'd first arrived as she'd been trying to get her bearings. Fans were allowed to see their favorite weapons after matches most days, but... “There's no visitor hours today, how are we going to-”

She ran right into Kid's back as he came to a sudden stop... in front of a maintenance shaft.

“No. No way. How the hell is that going to help?”

Kid turned back to her nonchalantly, as if he wasn't asking her to follow him down a several story drop. “I've studied the blueprints for this arena before we arrived. These shafts cross directly with the living areas under the arena where the weapons are kept. We should be able to find him there.”

Maka shook her head furiously. “It's a sheer several story drop! Assuming we can get down there, how are we going to do it safely?!”

“Beelzebub,” Kid replied with a shrug, summoning a flying skateboard from the palm of his hand.

Maka sighed, not for the first time somewhat regretting the fact that she was the only one who could work well with Kid. It wasn't that he was difficult to work with, but Maka was one of very few people who were able to deal with his frequent symmetry fits. He was currently focused fully on his mission, which thankfully pushed most thoughts of symmetry out of his head, though she had caught him trying to fix loose threads in the seat in front of them more than once when they were watching the matches. It was his occasional bouts of total disregard for sanity that she hated. Like now, when he gallantly held his hand out to her as if he wasn’t asking her to cling to him on a small skateboard over nothing and hope to God that he knew what he was doing.

Briefly pondering the irony that the son of the grim reaper was one day going to be the death of her, she took his hand and got herself as stable as she could behind him on the board, unable to keep in a small squeak of trepidation as Kid's will rose it from the floor, moved forward, and began their descent down the wide shaft.


	2. Chapter 2

They went down slowly, Kid seeming to actually notice that Maka was desperately trying not to freak out. Once she got sick of staring at the black, seemingly bottomless, shaft below them, she noticed that Kid was staring intently at doors that they passed every few minutes. She readied herself to get off when Kid stopped at a certain door, but then he sighed dejectedly and continued their descent. It wasn't until Maka realized that that was the eighth door they'd passed that she figured out why. She would have smacked him, son of her boss be damned, if she wasn't too busy cutting off the circulation to everything below his waist.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kid finally stopped at a door farther down than she thought they'd go, and moved toward it. It was unlocked, and Maka was surprised, until she realized that no one in their right mind would want in or out a door to nowhere. Kid glided in and dismissed Beelzebub, steadying her with his hand, as she stepped off with wobbly legs. He looked around with his eyes totally blank, which Maka knew to be his odd form of soul perception, then blinked and pulled her into a dark corner and motioned for her to be quiet. It was a long time before the two souls that Kid had seen (and Maka as well, out of curiosity) came within earshot.

“Forget it, kid,” a voice around the corner muttered. “You did what you had to. Lemme go, I can get to the infirmary myself.”

“Bullshit,” another voice replied, deeper and clearer than the other, though husky and with a very slight hint of a British accent. “You can barely walk on your own. I'm at least going to make sure you make it without collapsing.”

Kid froze at the second voice, and Maka wondered why, until they came around the corner they were hiding in and she saw the sword weapon hobbling down the hall with an arm over Soul Eater's shoulders as he half supported, half carried, the older, heavily armored weapon to wherever this infirmary was. Soul Eater himself was dressed in thick black leather pants with red diamonds stitched down the outside of his left leg, heavy boots, a skin tight dark gray shirt with strips of leather armor around his sides and back, and an elaborate black padded shoulder armor held on with a collar around his neck and another belt around his chest, with two smaller straps around his biceps to hold them in place. He carried the other weapon’s helmet in his free hand.

“God dammit, kid. Stop acting like this is your fault. You did what you had to out there, we all do. You gave me a few cuts. If I'd been able to keep up with you, I would have done the same. You're not obligated to make sure I don't die... You'd just be delaying the inevitable anyway.”

Soul Eater snorted. “A few cuts. Judging by the fact you can't walk, I'm pretty sure I sliced a tendon or two, and you can't even lift your right arm. Might have damaged something there, too.”

The older weapon sighed and shook his head. “Water under the bridge, kid. Stop worrying about it. If anything I should be thanking you. You put me on the injured list and I can have a break for a couple weeks. We're weapons, we heal quickly. I'll be fine in a week or two.”

Soul Eater looked back over his shoulder at the trail of blood the other weapon was leaving behind them. “If this water under the bridge of yours doesn't get dammed soon, you're gonna need a transfusion, too. So stop being a little bitch about it and let me help.”

“Ah, blood transfusion... Add another week to my break.”

Soul Eater rolled his eyes. “At least make good use of your break. Get some phone time and call your wife. Let her know you're still alive. Or something.”

“Sounds like a plan. Haven't spoken to her in a while. Don't get much opportunity to.”

“None of us do. Some are worse off than others.”

“Where's your family, kid?” The question was quiet, as if he was afraid of Soul Eater's answer.

He sighed. “No clue. Lost contact several years ago.”

Maka, who had been tailing them quietly in the shadows along with Kid, stopped at that. She looked to Kid to see that he'd frozen and was staring at Soul Eater with wide eyes. He had mentioned knowing Soul Eater personally before, and she wondered how he was taking the news of Soul Eater's missing family.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Soul Eater kicked a door open in the hallway and dragged the other weapon inside. “Come on. Try not to give the nurses too much hell this time. And don't forget your stupid looking helmet,” he added, tossing it in after the other weapon and ignoring the halfhearted curses he received at that before slamming the door shut behind him. He stalked down the hallway a few steps, stopped, and turned to Maka, who berated herself for standing just out of the shadows, unlike Kid.

Soul Eater's eyes narrowed. “I'd say there are no visiting hours today, but visitors are never allowed down here anyway. Who the hell are you and how did you get here?”

Maka opened her mouth to reply, but didn't know how much she could say without giving too much away, or if she would even be able to say anything anyway under the piercing glare he held her under. When she didn't answer immediately, his eyes narrowed and a blade flashed from his wrist.

“ _Soul_.”

He froze, eyes wide and looking over her shoulder. The blade on his wrist retracted instantly. “... _Kid?_ ”

Maka turned to see Kid stepping out of the shadows and between her and... Soul, she guessed his name was.

Soul stared, opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “Even knowing what you are, the fact that you haven't changed a bit... at _all_... since I was _five_... is kinda creepy.”

Kid stared evenly back at Soul's shocked face. “Shinigami age much slower than mortals, Soul. You know that.”

“... Still creepy.”

Kid continued to stare flatly at Soul, who fidgeted slightly under his gaze, looking nothing like the fierce weapon she'd seen in the arena. He rubbed his arm absently, then glanced up at Maka and smirked, seemingly glad for the ability to change the subject.

“Who's the bird?”

_Bird?_ Maka blinked as Soul gave her a roguish grin, showing off his jagged teeth.

Kid stepped aside to reveal Maka. “This is my partner from Shibusen. I usually request her assistance for the more… delicate missions Father sends me on.”

Soul nodded once, giving her an appreciative once-over. “She your weapon, then?”

“Actually, she is a meister. I left my weapons behind for this mission, as I felt it would be too dangerous, and because Father recommended I do not bring any weapons, given the… nature… of this place.”

Soul scowled. “Yeah, that’s probably a good call.”

Kid stepped in front of Maka again, expression serious. “What happened, Soul?”

Soul blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in mood. “What do you mean?”

Kid scowled. “The Evans family as a whole has always been adamantly against weapon combat. Why are you here? The Soul I once knew wouldn’t even set foot within a ten mile radius of this place. So why are you suddenly one of the star combatants?”

Soul’s eyes narrowed. “The Soul you knew died years ago, Kid. And not losing a single fight tends to stick you with the whole star combatant bullshit.”

“Have you killed?”

Red eyes widened in offense. “Fuck, no. There’s no reason to. Maimed, removed limbs, sure, I’ve done that, but only in self defense when cutting tendons and muscles wasn’t stopping them. Sure that doesn’t make me very popular sometimes, as the crowd is always out for blood and nothing makes them happier than a fatality victory, it seems, but I don’t see it as necessary.”

Kid nodded slowly. “Perhaps the Soul I once knew is still in there, somewhere. But that doesn’t answer the question as to why you’re here in the first place.”

Maka felt her soul waver as Soul’s expression just… died. She would have preferred the venomous look he had been giving Kid earlier to the blank look with dead eyes he gave them now.

“Do you honestly think most of us are here of our own will, Kid?”

Now it was Kid’s turn to look shocked. “… What?”

“I have my reasons for being here. I haven’t lost a fight yet because I have a reason to win. Don’t insult me by thinking even for _one bloody **second**_ that I want to be here. True, you’ll actually find some weapons here who do, and who love it here, for some twisted reason. But I’m not one of them. Stop talking to me like you know me, Kid. A lot of things have happened in the past thirteen years.” He reached up and unsnapped the collar around his neck, pulling off his shoulder armor and shoving it in his belt. “There’s not much you can say or do that will help me, honestly. Go back to Nevada.”

Kid scowled. “Maka, if you would, please.”

Maka sighed. She hated doing this, but was also pretty sure that it was why she’d been requested. She walked up to Soul, who raised an eyebrow in confusion, and took his hand. Ignoring his surprised and slightly offended cries, she closed her eyes and concentrated on his wavelength, then forced her own into it.

Soul cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, his hand still in hers, before his whole body was consumed in light and Maka was left holding a large scythe with a blade almost as long as she was tall. There was an eye where blade met shaft, and it squinted before clamping shut entirely against the pain. Maka’s eyes were still closed, trying desperately to hold her focus over his distorted cries of agony that could still be heard through the steel of his weapon form.

Kid stepped calmly forward. “The pain you are currently feeling is your soul being overwhelmed. Maka is an exceptional meister who can not only see souls, but has a unique wavelength that makes her all but immune to insanity, and is also quite adept at subduing an unruly weapon, such as yourself.”

Soul appeared as a reflection in the blade, teeth clenched in pain as he glared at Kid through squinted red eyes.

“I had hoped it would not have come to this, but the mission she and I were sent here for specifically, is to help you, whether you think we are capable of it or not.”

Soul showed brief surprise before another wave of pain wracked through him.

“While we do have a rudimentary knowledge of your situation, we will need your help as well if we are to succeed. Are you willing?”

“ _D… Don’t…. seem to… haveafuckingchoice_.”

“You do,” Kid replied. “I just needed you to listen, and to show you a small portion of what we are capable of.” He looked from the reflection of the blade to Maka, who still stood motionless in concentration, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She hated doing this. “Maka, release him.”

She did immediately, and Soul slumped to the ground on his side, now human. The pain was gone, but the memory and exhaustion were still there, and he curled slightly, sweating bullets and panting hard as he clutched at his chest with one hand.

Kid knelt down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Soul jerked upright in response and backed a bit away, still clutching at his chest and looking wildly from Kid to Maka. She had let some tears fall after releasing his soul, and while he was still terrified of what she was able to do to him, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, something Kid did not miss. Even when he was young, Soul did not like seeing women cry.

“Soul,” he said gently, trying his best to not frighten the weapon further. “Like it or not, we are on your side, and were sent to help you. But we can’t do it alone. We need your knowledge, and your help. Despite the display earlier, you do have a choice in this matter. We will not force you one way or the other. Nor will we leave, if that is in fact your choice. We will see this mission through, with or without your help, but it will be much easier for all involved should you choose to help us.”

Soul was silent, and looked from Kid to Maka a few times, hardly daring to believe Kid’s words. He tried to stand, but his legs failed him and he collapsed back to the floor ungracefully on his ass. Maka hesitantly offered him a hand, and he stared at it for a moment, not moving. His eyes slowly traveled up her arm to meet hers, and she smiled sadly at him.

She had put him in unimaginable pain only moments ago, but he had also felt something behind it. The force pushing him down was also full of nothing but remorse and apology, almost as if she was in as much pain as he was. He raised his hand from the floor, hesitated halfway, then raised it the rest of the way and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She returned the gesture, and pulled him to his feet, supporting him with her slight frame until he was steady enough to stand on his own.

Kid watched the entire exchange with intrigue, then slowly stood from the crouch he’d been in to speak to Soul earlier, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible to the clearly rattled weapon.

Soul looked down at Maka, who still had his arm around her shoulders as his knees were still a little wobbly, then back to Kid, face set in a determined expression.

“What do you need me to do?”


	3. Chapter 3

It was quite a while before Soul was able to stand on his own again. Maka simply stood by, supporting him, while he and Kid caught up to pass the time before Soul's knees decided to hold his weight again. She was amazed how much he seemed to know about Shibusen, despite never actually being to one of its many campuses, and she wondered just how much time Kid spent with him in the past for him to know so much.

When Soul could finally stand, he motioned for them to follow him, saying something about it not being safe to hang around in the hallway as long as they had. He led them through so many twists and turns that Maka quickly got lost, and hoped that Kid knew how to get back out when the time came for them to leave. Eventually, Soul came to a door to a room that was so noisy Maka could hear all the noise and chatter through the thick metal. He opened the door and waved them in.

“Need to hide you guys. Kid's abilities should be able to let him pass as a weapon if he plays it up enough, but I'm not so sure about you, Birdie. That being said, it's so crowded in here that people are less likely to notice you, and if they do, they likely won't care. Just keep your heads down.”

Maka looked up into the room to see that Soul had led them to a large, overly crowded cafeteria and rec room. There were tables scattered everywhere with various weapons all seated at them, either talking loudly with each other, devouring massive plates of food, or playing cards or other board games. Some sat alone, reading or playing with some small electronic device or another. A few more were sprawled on couches asleep. Maka agreed that this would be an excellent place to hide, and the noise would cover any suspicious conversation.

Kid mentioned something about mingling for information and left the two of them to head through the room. Maka nodded, not too worried for him. Soul had said Kid could pass for a weapon if he tried, and he was indeed a good enough actor that she was confident in him being alright.

After telling her to stay close, Soul moved to the cafeteria and loaded up a couple plates of food before heading to a couch with a small table in front of it, passing her one of the plates before digging into his own. Maka was amazed at what was there. Prime rib, shrimp, food she'd never even dream of eating all the time because it was normally so expensive. Seeming to notice her thoughts, Soul swallowed and spoke up.

“We're fed well. Both to keep our strength up, and... well... we're not really expected to live that long. I suppose Noah feels we should live pampered lives because they're so short here.” he added bitterly.

Maka looked up from her food. “Noah?”

Soul nodded. “He owns this arena and all of us. He doesn't really consider us people... more... things to be collected. Or something along those lines. I've met him several times. He's seriously fucked up in the head. And don't even get me started on his assistant. I'm not sure what the hell he is, probably a weird weapon of some sort, but he doesn't have a name, and just goes by Gopher. Guy seriously has issues and I think he wants in Noah's pants.

“I'm pretty sure your mission here will have you crossing paths with one or both of them. Noah's at least somewhat coherent, but be very careful around him. Gopher... Just avoid him completely. He's batshit.”

Maka nodded. “Got it.”

“Hey, Soul Eater!”

Maka tensed, but Soul simply grinned and turned to the voice who called him. “Lancer. What's up?”

A large man with a thick Russian accent lumbered up and thumped Soul on the back. “Impressive show out there tonight. Is your opponent well?”

Soul winced and discreetly rolled his shoulders. “I cut a few tendons and possibly an artery... He was bleeding a hell of a lot, but was still cursing me out when I dragged his sorry ass to the infirmary. I think he'll be fine.”

“Lancer” laughed loudly before dropping a heavy hand on Soul's shoulder. Maka stifled a giggle at Soul's cringe when he nearly fell over sideways. “That sounds like Claymore. He'll be thankful to you for the break, I'm sure. Keep up the good work!” With another thump on the back that actually did send Soul pitching forward, the large weapon left to go back to whatever he had been watching on the wall sized TV on the opposite end of the room.

Maka waited for Soul to climb back up onto the couch before speaking. “You seem well liked.”

Soul coughed a bit before sinking into the couch next to her. “A lot of weapons seem to look up to me for some reason. I'm not sure if it's because I've been here a while and I'm still alive, or if I just refuse to kill, but I guess I can't complain. Hard to get into bad fights when everyone likes you. With life here, I'll take what I can get.”

“You've spared many of our lives when the easy thing would have been to kill us, Soul Eater. That's not something one will forget lightly.”

Maka and Soul both looked up to see a man covered in bandages with his arm in a sling shuffle to the couch across from them and heave himself down on it. Soul frowned slightly. “How you doing, Claymore?”

Maka blinked and looked over to the man across from them, finding it hard to believe this was the man Soul had met in the arena earlier. She didn't recognize him without his armor. He sighed and shrugged his good shoulder. “Well, I'm not dead. Doc put me on the drop list for three weeks. I'll enjoy my little break and all the painkillers it brings. You did damn near sever the tendon in my left leg though.”

Soul grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

Claymore scoffed and waved it off. “I'm alive, Soul Eater. That's more than I can ask for when being pitted against a class 2 weapon. I'm grateful it was you. Now if you'll excuse me, I heard they had prime rib today.”

Claymore hauled himself back up off the couch, grabbed his crutch, and resolutely hobbled off to the cafeteria, refusing any help that was offered him. Soul shook his head. “Stubborn old man.”

“Soul?”

Soul turned form Claymore's back to Maka. “Hm?”

“Sorry... for attacking your soul like that.”

Soul looked at her for a moment before sighing and sinking back into the couch. “You did what you had to do. I wasn't being very cooperative either. Don't worry about it.”

They sank into comfortable silence after that. Soul finishing his plate and then Maka's once she'd eaten what she wanted. She simply sat back and watched all the weapons in the room interact while Soul dozed on the couch beside her, both waiting for Kid to return.

The back door to the room opened and slammed shut. This had happened many times before, but the way Soul was instantly alert and on his feet put Maka on edge. She braced herself for a fight as she stood up with him. He immediately shoved her back into the couch, tersely ordering her to stay the fuck down.

Maka was about to protest when she noticed that the room was eerily silent. She looked up in the direction of the door to see a man with slicked back brown hair that jutted out in spikes to one side casually strolling around the room like he owned the place, looking down his nose at many other weapons. The other weapons either glared defiantly back or cringed under his gaze. Her heart jumped when his eyes landed on her, and before she could even detect the movement, Soul was in front of her with a blade raised vertically in the air from his wrist, what appeared to be a giant chainsaw chain wrapping around it half a second later.

The whole room stopped breathing. Maka followed the chain to the man who had just walked in, a huge vicious smirk on his face with the pulled taught chain extending from his wrist. Soul did not back down, his expression hard.

The man cackled sadistically before withdrawing the chain, leaving a small scratch on Soul's face in challenge. “Soul Eater.”

Soul lowered his arm, but kept his blade out. “Voorhees,” he spat.

Voorhees grinned, showing off teeth equally sharp as Soul's, before glancing back to Maka. “Keeping the new blood all to yourself? I'm hurt. You should really learn to share.”

Soul visibly bristled and bared his teeth in a feral snarl. “I hardly think she's interested. Go fuck one of your bimbo fans who don't know any better.”

Voorhees's smile faltered before becoming a scowl. He started moving towards them before Soul raised his arm and pointed his still drawn blade at the other weapon's face, another blade appearing from his opposite shoulder and pointing at his sternum. “ _Come any closer and I'll finish what I began with your nose_.” Soul growled.

Maka glanced up at Voorhees at that, and noticed a metal plate over the bridge of his nose. It must have been a sensitive topic, because Voorhees roared and lunged at Soul, only to be grabbed and thrown back by Lancer, who quickly dropped to a defensive position in front of them, a harpoon resting over the top of his arm aimed at where Voorhees landed, cocked and ready to fire.

“Take the new blood and get her and yourself out of here, Soul Eater. We will cover for you.”

Soul immediately withdrew his blades and grabbed Maka around the waist with one arm, moving quickly through the room and weaving through the other brave weapons that were moving to distract Voorhees. Kid slid into place beside them, easily keeping pace with Soul, who was practically carrying Maka at this point.

“Friend of yours?” he quipped.

“You could say that.” Soul muttered back, throwing an abandoned table up on its side to serve as a decent hiding place. “Had a bit of a disagreement early on when I got here. I may or may not have lost it and stabbed him in the face over it. He hasn't really liked me much since.”

“Can't imagine why,” Kid replied as he braced his back against the table with Soul to hold it up against whatever may be thrown at it. “You alright, Maka?”

Soul still had an arm around her waist, and his grip was mildly uncomfortable, but she was fine otherwise. She nodded to Kid.

A chainsaw chain scraped against the wall dangerously close to their little table, and Soul let go of Maka in favor of looking around the edge. “Good. He still hasn't seen us. That was just him being pissy and throwing chains again. Still, we've gotta get out of here. I think I pissed him off moreso than usual.”

“I concur.” Kid replied as Soul moved back around to hide again.

Maka glanced up at Soul from the corner of her eye. “What is he?”

“Chainsaw,” Soul replied. “Thought that much was obvious.”

“Yeah, but Voorhees? Wasn't Jason's main weapon a machete?”

Kid and Soul both looked at Maka like she'd grown another head before Soul spoke up. “I don't think that's really important, but if you wanna complain, complain to him. He chose it.” He glanced up at Kid. “Any ideas?”

Kid looked up over the top of their hiding place before looking back to Soul with a small grin that told Maka he had another harebrained idea that was likely to get her killed again. She sighed inwardly and waited for the shoe to drop. “Remember the many maneuvers we came up with when you were young to escape your maids and nannies?”

Soul's grin mirrored Kid's with the addition of his jagged teeth. He pondered for a minute before nodding to the door Voorhees came in through. “Back door, formation beta.”

Kid was gone before Maka could wonder what the hell they were talking about, and Soul's arm was once again around her waist and she was half dragged, half carried through the room along the wall (“You're with me, little birdie.”). Kid was going straight through the center, headed straight for Voorhees and the group of weapons holding him down. She noticed a flash from him that usually coincided with one of the skull shaped shields he was capable of producing in certain hand to hand stances he was fond of, before said shield slammed right into the chainsaw weapon's face, effectively stunning him long enough for the other weapons to take advantage of and get him fully under control. Kid leaped over an overturned chair and made it to the door.

Soul lifted Maka off the ground and picked up speed until he blew out the door himself. Kid slammed it behind them and jogged up to the weapon, who slowed down and set Maka back on her feet.

“Well.” Kid noted as Soul bent over slightly to catch his breath. “That was unexpected. Anything we should know about this Voorhees?”

“Only that he's the only other weapon who's been able to make it difficult in fights for me, and hates my guts with a vengeance. Noah refuses to put us in a match together because we're both his most valuable weapons and he doesn't want to lose one of us. Because if that happens, he will. Voorhees will gladly kill anyone or anything that crosses his path, and he's the only weapon I'd be willing to kill, myself. He's utterly insane and the only thing he enjoys as much as murder is rape.”

Maka scowled and Kid narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular. “Disgusting,” the young reaper spat.

“No shit,” Soul replied. “I'll be fine because fighting outside of arenas is forbidden, and Voorhees doesn't know where my dorm is. He's likely in huge trouble as it is for starting the fight in the rec room. I'll work with you on this, but for now you two need to get as far away from here as possible. There's a maintenance elevator down the hall that goes straight to an exit. Normally it's heavily guarded, but the commotion down here should give you a decent enough window to escape. If I go with you, you will definitely be noticed by guards or cameras, so you'll have to go alone. I'll meet you back here in a day or two. Keep your heads down. There were cameras all over in there and I'm sure you were seen.”

Kid nodded and grabbed Maka's upper arm, heading down the way Soul indicated. She imagined he already knew about the elevator and exit Soul mentioned. She paused and looked back at the weapon.

“We'll be back in a couple days. Be careful, Soul.”

Soul smirked back at her. “Always am, Birdie.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was official. Hotel beds sucked. Doing nothing sucked. They had taken Soul’s advice and stayed at a hotel far enough from the arena to be away from the crowds, but it had been a week and Kid had done little else but “research.” Maka rolled over to see Kid still noisily typing away at his heavily personalized, and very symmetrical, laptop.

“Find anything?”

Kid scowled slightly at the laptop screen. “Naturally, all the useful inside information cannot be accessed from the public websites, and hacking is more Liz and Patti’s forte than mine, but I was able to find some pretty in depth profiles of this Noah who owns the arena, as well as this Voorhees who attacked us. Noah himself naturally has much more information about him freely available from information sites and the like. From his public financial records pertaining to his arena to his own contributions to the league itself.”

Maka rolled over on her back and stretched a bit, cringing at the cracks that ran all the way down her spine. “Anything we can use?”

Kid smirked and turned the screen so she could see it. “Something quite useful, in fact. It would seem that Sir Noah is quite the gambler and loves high stakes.”

“And if what Soul told us is true, Noah sees both him and Voorhees as his prized fighters.” Maka replied. “We could use this.”

Kid frowned. “How?”

“Get him to organize a fight with a wager. Somehow have him agree to a fight that could free Soul and maybe some other weapons if it ends in our favor.”

“What sort of fight though? If Soul is the prize, he may also make Soul part of the fight. I’d rather not get an old friend killed. And you’re also assuming he’ll agree to this.”

“Soul or Noah?”

“At this point? Both. Also, the stakes are only on his end in that deal. He is the only one set to lose anything. Yet if he wins, he doesn’t really gain anything either. I’m not comfortable with thinking what he would have us wager in return, given his apparent value of Soul. I’d prefer to at least have a decent plan.”

Conversation apparently over, Kid went back to typing and ignoring her. Maka huffed and rolled back over, hoping Soul was having more luck figuring out anything they should know.

  


Soul was a nervous wreck.

He’d been worried about a ramp up in security once Gopher or possibly Noah himself looked at the security tapes in the rec room. Someone always looked at the tapes when a fight started outside of an arena. The borderline riot that had been used to more or less cover Kid and Maka’s escape was definitely not going to go unnoticed.

Judging by the extra cameras in every corner, and the new guard rotations, they had definitely been noticed.

He had told them to keep clear for a couple days. It had been a week. He hoped they were intelligent enough to stay away until things cooled down, but he was unsure if that was even going to happen. None of the other weapons seemed to notice or comment on all the extra security, or they just didn't care.

He was on his way to the rec room for lunch when it happened. A flash of consciousness that was clearly not his. The brief headache that came with it caused a small surge of panic and he could almost feel his soul reflexively withdrawing into itself. The other consciousness was gone. A random snippet of his childhood wavered at the edge of his memory. Kid had once told him briefly of weapon/meister relationships and soul resonance, but not exactly how it would feel. He blinked hard and pushed himself off the wall he’d apparently slid into, shook his head, and continued on his way into the rec room.

He’d completely cleared his plate and drained the soda he’d grabbed for lunch when a thought struck him. That consciousness… or whatever… had felt familiar.

It also felt like it was right outside the door to the rec room.

_Oh_.

_Shit_.

  


They’d waited until a big fight in the middle of the day before heading back to the arena. Using the massive crowd as cover Kid dragged Maka to a different maintenance shaft this time and they dropped much quicker to the needed floor, much to Maka’s horror. He practically shot through the door when he finally found it, dismissed his skateboard, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into a relatively dark corner while a couple men she assumed to be guards walked by.

They’d both agreed that speed was necessary because of the commotion they and Vorhees had started almost a week ago, but they had to move slowly and carefully through the darkened hall. Kid’s soul perception was wide open and on full alert to watch for any guards long before they even made it into the hallway. Maka simply followed him, as he’d told her to keep hers off unless absolutely needed.

She could tell, through the normal use of an odd half resonance, half Kid invading her mind with his Shinigami powers thing that they used for rudimentary contact during missions, that he was high strung and on full alert in the very high chance that something would go wrong. She imagined their conversation that morning hadn’t left him in the best of spirits either. So it was quite a shock when she felt another tug on her soul that was definitely not Kid. This particular presence was foreign, strange… and utterly terrified at the unknown contact, as immediately after the tug, it panicked and fled.

Normally Maka would have been intrigued, maybe a little frightened, at such a contact, but she was also an unbound meister in a building full of unbound weapons, and it likely wasn’t unheard of for brief flashes of compatibility in close physical quarters. A part of her was immensely curious what weapon here she was so inherently compatible with, but she was also on a mission and that little piece of information wasn’t important right now.

She immediately recognized the rec room door when they made it there, but before Kid could reach to try to figure out how to stealthily open the door, it flew open and they were immediately grabbed, pulled inside, and dragged to an empty couch in a dim corner near the door.

Once she and Kid were done being manhandled, Maka looked up into a pair of very familiar red eyes, and was taken aback by the brief haunted flash in them before they hardened and looked to Kid.

“What the hell are you two doing here? I told you to lay low.” Soul growled at the Shinigami. “Noah knows you were here and has upped security insanely. You shouldn’t be here!”

Maka isn’t able to hear Kid trying to placate Soul over the sudden roaring in her own soul. The tug was back, but it felt more like a forceful pull than just a small tug, and the other presence in her mind either didn’t notice it yet, as it was yet to panic and flee as before, or it was immensely distracted, or…

Soul suddenly broke off his hushed tirade at Kid and stared wide eyed at her. The haunted look in his eyes was back, and the presence in her soul was starting to panic again.

_Oh God_.

This time, she was the one to panic and flee, and promptly scooted to the other end of the couch from Soul. Kid, who had broken off his train of thought when Soul’s attention had abruptly shifted, now looked to Maka, who was leaning away from Soul and had locked her own soul down so tightly that even he was having issues maintaining their weak link. He looked over to Soul and saw the apparent panic in the weapon as well.

“Alright. What did I miss.”

Soul shook his head, still staring at Maka. She sighed and drew her knees up to herself. “I’m not sure if it’s because of the forced resonance from a week ago, or if it just happened, but we accidentally resonated… Twice.”

Soul blinked. “That was you…? Earlier, I mean.”

Maka nodded.

“Huh,” Soul blinked at her when she lifted her eyes to look at him again, then shrugged one shoulder. “That would explain how I knew you two were coming. Which brings me back to the point,” he turned back on Kid. “That you two _really shouldn’t be here_. You need to go. _Now_.”

“We came here because we are still here on a mission.” Kid replied, “While it’s not our aim at the moment, if Noah catches us, that will save us the trouble of trying to get to him ourselves.”

Whatever retort Soul had planned died in his throat as he simply stared at Kid. “Did I not say you should probably be _avoiding_ -”

“How do you propose we help you if we don’t go to Noah himself?”

Soul had no response, but he was clearly not happy. The bits of accidental resonance that seeped through the cracks in her walls were very agitated and nervous, but for _them_. Maka didn’t feel any fear in Soul for his own safety. Then again, he was supposed to be here.

Soul was still glaring hotly at Kid when the back door banged open and the room went silent. Maka felt an odd sense of deja vu, looking around the room. Her gaze settled on two men in similar uniforms as the ones they’d been dodging all down the hallway.

Soul hadn’t broken eye contact with Kid the whole time, and his eyes bore angrily into the Shinigami’s. “Looks like you got your wish.”

As the men roamed the room, Kid narrowed his eyes at Soul. “I’ve dealt with much worse than arena guards before. I can handle this. You know that. Why are you so angry?”

If possible, Soul looked even angrier, and motioned to Maka, who had huddled close to Soul and Kid again when the men had walked in. “Because you’re dragging _her_ with you. And going by what you’ve drilled into my head my entire five-year-old life, her safety is my top priority now. Like it or not, we’re somehow resonating, and for now, that makes me her weapon. She is my meister. And she is in danger. Because of _you_.”

Before Maka could retort that she was here of her own free will, thank you very much, she and Kid were found and pulled to their feet. The guards grumbled something about them going to see Noah, and Soul lunged to his feet, only to suddenly be wrapped in a bladed chain and stutter to a stop on his feet with his arms bound awkwardly to his chest. He bared his teeth at a gleeful Voorhees standing once again at the back door.

“Sorry, Soul Eater,” he sneered as Soul struggled briefly against the older weapon’s chain, but settled for snarling like an animal when he only succeeded in digging the blades further into himself. “But you’re going with them.” A vicious grin spread across his face as he pulled slightly on the chain wrapped around his palm, dragging Soul slightly off balance for a second. “Something about you letting them in? You’re in a _lot_ of trouble.”


End file.
